X-Men: Dark Force
by amilhorn
Summary: With the actions of Wolverine and Shadowcat, the timeline has been reset and now the first adventure in a new world in the year 2023. A new mutant has risen, his powers unmatched and uncharted while an old foe not seen in years returns with a thirst for vengeance: Scarlet Witch.


_**1407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center**_

_**Westchester County, New York**_

_**39 miles outside of New York City...**_

A once tall and regal bearing man sat in a chair, one that was made out of solid steel. It's seat was black leather and padded appropriately and the arms had controls for movement of the chair on the right side, where his right hand would rest. His feet and legs rested in the leg holders and supports of the chair and the wheels were custom designed; large circular orbits with a bold X forming the braces. His head was hairless and his face warm and welcoming, yet it hid memories of seeing atrocities that no human had any right to experience and spoke silently of regret. His blue eyes however were still bright and an intangible power, invisible, seemed to radiate from them. He was dressed in a dark tailored suit and well shined black wingtip shoes, his dark blue tie and white dress shirt spotless under the neat suit jacket.

One would assume he was just another man in a wheelchair, bound to it for life, unable to experience the joys and the normalcy of human existence. That would be a foolish assumption for the most part as while it was true he was bound to the wheelchair as surely as a fish was to its watery home, he was not in any way helpless. In fact, it was what one could not see that was his most powerful asset.

His mind.

Charles Xavier, the world's leading experts on human mutation, genetics and psychology, a proud advocate for mutant and human rights, a peacemaker, was for all intents and purposes, the most powerful telepath the planet had ever seen. He was renowned as the man who fought hardest for peace between humans, those without special powers and abilities (homo sapiens) and mutants, humans with extraordinary powers and gifts (homo sapiens superior). There were those that opposed him on both sides of the conflict that had waged now for so many years. On one hand, there was the human element that believed in human, that is non-mutant, blood purity. Many organizations had sprung up throughout his life, all committed to "purifying the mutant taint" from the human gene pool, the annihilation of all mutant kind.

The other side of the complicated triangle, were the mutants who believed in all out mutant superiority over their non powered human brothers, who wished to see nothing more than the total subjugation of non mutants. Caught in-between these two polar forces were the mutants and people who just wanted to live and be left alone, and those who were thinking about choosing a side, influenced on all sides as the nation and indeed, the world, debated the fate of mutant and human kind alike.

This was not on the forefront of his mind this morning however.

This morning, Charles Xavier had been awoken by yet another nightmare as he had been now for the past three days. The nightmare was always the same; one of death and destruction, absolute chaos, the obliteration of all life and the poison of death as it dripped like blood from the flaming ruins of civilization all to the strange half human half animal scream that rocked his dream scape with god-like power.

The first two times it happened, Xavier had tried to go back to sleep, to reason away the dreams. The third time it was different. This morning, the dream had changed.

This time, there was a face behind that scream. A soul. A person. The ruins became familiar as he recognized the smoldering remains of New York's Time Square and the faces of women and children dying in suffering.

He had not spoken to anyone of these dreams but that was about to change. It was about to change, he thought as he reached out to the console in front of him, toggled several switches and set the search parameters he was looking for before picking up a helmet that was made of a strangely beautiful silver metal with twin cables coming out of the top, just above where his temples would be if he wore it, because his dreams were not dreams; they were a warning. Something was coming. A major shift in the balance of power. As he lowered the helmet onto his head and closed his eyes, the gigantic silver room around him with its millions of silver tiles seemed to go dark and pull into itself, vanishing in a slam of soundless light, he focused, letting his dreams guide him, his memories reaching out, sensing, searching for the face in his nightmares.

Opening his eyes, he saw people around him, sleeping, some working, some driving the late night highways. These people were transparent smoky white ghost like images, none aware that Charles Xavier's machine, a mutant finder known as Cerebro, was reaching psychically out to them. The machine was designed and built expressly for the purposes of amplifying Xavier's powers so that he could find new mutants, ones to help and possibly save, to bring into Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, the mansion that was both his home, his students home and their school. The mansion was above his head, through the subbasements. He alone was awake at this hour. Except for nineteen year-old Bobby Drake, who was not sleeping well and in the kitchen, nursing a soda.

Xavier smiled and got back to work. He was seeing city streets now, dark and dirty, grungy, a back alley...there were no white shadows, no whispy white ghosts of the normal humans he was psychically touching...no...

There.

A surge of fear gripped him and shot through him. It was cold and sickly and for a moment he broke out in a cold sweat before he realized he wasn't afraid; he was sensing the fear of another. It was powerful, tidal wave like in its proportions. It wasn't normal fear; it was the fear of death. Narrowing his mind he found the source and saw it manifest before him, projected holographically as a red vaguely human shape, smoky and moving quickly but erratically. The shape itself was miraculous to behold; it was human in overall shape and size but its head...its head was shaped like a wolf or a dog with a long muzzle, pointed ears...and a tail.

That was the clearest he could get the image to come into focus as the fear was just too great. Behind him, three more shapes chased him, white smoky ones...humans. They emanated disgust and fear, but mostly the sap like thickness of hate. Scanning the red shape, Cerebro displayed a chart showing the scannable power scale of the mutant in question; the power levels were off the charts, beyond any normal mutation.

Omega-level.

There were only fifteen omega-level mutants in the world. One of his closest friends and former student, now teacher, Jean Grey, was one of them. She was possibly the most deadly force on earth with her ability to manipulate physical and energy matter. Her telekinesis and telepathy were the most powerful besides his own that he had ever seen. Her potential was unlimited. Omega-level mutants had powers that could only be described as god-like in their strength. Some were uncontrollable. Jean Grey herself had several mental blocks in her mind, psychic barriers that Charles himself had placed there to keep her dark side from unleashing the full power within herself. If that power got out, it would literally have the potential to end all life on the planet. This mutant, was similar but he wasn't psychic, Xavier felt. But what was he? Those humans chasing him had no idea what he was capable of and niether did Xavier which was needless to say, terrifying. What was truly mystifying was that this person had no idea what they were capable of.

Focusing deeper, he could now see through the eyes of the mutant being chased. He was young, maybe twenty at the most. His thoughts were a mess of fear, panic and self loathing, a twisted tangle of the need to survive. He caught a glimpse of memories and they were all too familiar to him: the flashes of pain and terror as mutant powers first manifested. His was particularly brutal. The streetlights flew by before the mutant turned down an ally way, heading deeper into the side streets...but where?

In his terror, the mutant looked behind him to see his attackers, all three of them were large brutes of men, wielding fists and clubs. In that simple movement, Xavier saw what he needed. A store sign for Robert's Electronics.

The mutant was here, in Salem Center, near Exeter Avenue. That meant he was less than ten minutes from the mansion.

He shut down Cerebro, pulling the helmet from his head as the room around him reformed. Psychically he called out to the members of his elite team, a commando unit of specially trained mutants, a strike force who would not stand by and let humans destroy mutants, nor would they let other mutants prey on mankind. This team was a wall between the ever brewing war between mutants and human supremacists, fighting to protect those that hated and feared them.

The X-Men.

Within moments, the three foot thick metal doors with the X-insigna on them slid open with a hiss and three people ran into the room, out onto the catwalk that extended into the middle of Cerebro.

The first was a man, in his early thirties with short but wavy brown hair. He was dressed in a pair of flannel pajama pants and a white t-shirt with barefeet. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of black glasses that were strapped to his head by a thin but strong fabric elastic band. The lenses in the glasses were opaque to anyone looking at them, the brilliant scarlet red of the ruby quartz reflecting the gentle ambient light in Cerebro. The man wearing them however could see just fine.

This was Scott Summers, code named Cyclops. He was the leader of the X-Men and one of Xavier's first students. The woman next to him was slightly shorter than his six foot four frame, close in age and wore a loose green and white sleeveless pajama top and matching bottoms that covered her feet like bell bottoms. She had a stunningly beautiful face with bright green eyes and long waist length red hair. Her name was Jean Grey. The last member of the trio was a tall regal woman with chocolate colored skin that was as soft as velvet and flawless. Her night attire was simple, a thin blue night dress and a thin housecoat the color of the dawn sky that flowed around her like a cape. Her hair, like Jean's, was also waist length but was shockingly white as though it were arctic tundra snow. Her eyes were sky-blue and intense. This was Ororo Munroe, code named Storm.

"What is it professor?" Scott asked immediately, getting straight to the point as was his nature. He was a dedicated man and believed whole heartedly in the idea of mutant and human peace. He was also an excellent field commander.

"I need to speak to you three and the rest of the team. I've had some disturbing dreams of late but right now that will have to wait," Xavier said, folding his hands in front of him.

Jean, being the other telepath, picked up immediately what was wrong.

Her face darkened. "An omega level mutant? Here?"  
>"Yes, and he's been chased by several humans whose intentions sadly are perfectly clear. He is the source of these dreams I think and his role in affairs to come could be...paramount. I need you three to go to him and make sure he is not harmed. Please take care; I don't want the humans harmed either as much as you can possibly avoid it. He has no idea what he is capable of."<p>

_And neither do I_, Xavier thought to himself worryingly, carefully shielding his thoughts from Jean.

"He is over in an alley way behind Robert's Electronics on Exeter. With certain liberties with the speed limit, you could probably be there in five minutes if you hurry."

"I'll prep the X-Van. Meet me in the garage in three minutes. Let's move." Scott said, turning and running at a fast paced jog down the halls to the underground garage where their uniforms and vehicles were stored. Needing no further prodding, Storm and Jean followed, their faces set.

Charles turned back to Cerebro and lifted the helmet once more, activating the machine as the doors closed behind his team, seeking out the targeted young man before anyone got hurt. Perhaps he could touch his mind and communicate before things got out of control.

_I'm going to die._

This was the only thought that Ryan Douglas could consciously pick from the rush going by in his mind. Everything else was a blur. His body hurt. Every cell, every nerve, every muscle and sinew burned with the intensity of a blow torch. He could see things he shouldn't be able to see. Where most people could see only light and shadow in the dark, he could see everything in shades of yellow amber in perfect clarity. Both of his eyes were now twin high definition lenses it seemed. His sense of smell was different now. He could smell things he shouldn't be able to. He could smell the tangy bitterness of his own fear. He could hear people arguing in the next building over on the top floor. His shoes on his feet were in rags. His shirt was hanging off of his body in pieces. His jeans were torn at the knees and ill fitting now, far too tight. A tail flung out behind him that he didn't want but he felt his balance improve with, his agility was now rivaling that of a cat. He didn't think about it; it just happened. His mouth was bloody from the new teeth in his new jaws. His skin was now covered in dark fur, short and shiny, like a doberman's and just as black.

He looked down at his hands; human shaped and in form except his fingernails now resembled short black claws and his palms were furless covered in a smooth velvet pad like flesh the color of dark black velvet.

He was panting but not out of need, but rather out of reflex. There was a throbbing ache in his forearms and his palms felt like they were burning, his bones were on fire he was sure of it.

Behind him they came, screaming their taunts and jeers, swinging their clubs and make shift weapons. He didn't do anything to them; he had only been seen despite his makeshift cloak made from rags and old cloth as he tried to pass unseen, like he always did.

It fluttered behind him like wings and he wished he could fly instead of being this...this long muzzled dog like freak of nature.

Turning down a dark street, he saw before him a brick wall that went up several stories, walls on both sides...it was a dead end.

He cursed as he tried to about face when he realized behind him were his tormentors. He reflexively turned the other direction and his momentum tripped up his own two feet and he went sprawling to the ground, landing violently in a heap, the pavement cutting his knees and elbows to shreds before he came to rest on his stomach. It stung intensely before the pain vanished. The wounds were gone. Within seconds, they surrounded him, all drunk, their breaths stinking of alcohol, their eyes alight with a primitive hate and a dark anger. He didn't know them. All were dressed alike, in ratty looking clothes from some of the poorer neighborhoods. One held a baseball bat, the other a knife, the third one was weaponless. He was the leader. He screamed the loudest.

"Damn mutie...what the fuck are you doing in our town, FREAK?!"

His buddy chimed in with a swift kick aimed at Ryan's head which connected with a sickening crunch. Ryan's eyes saw stars and he tasted more blood in his mouth and it flowed from his nose. The blow sent him reeling backwards into a ball, on the filthy nasty streets. He tried to get up but found himself shoved down into the asphalt, nose first, the wind driven from him as one of them drove a booted foot into the small of his back. His cry of pain went uncared for.

"Looks like we got ourself a real ugly one...a dog catcher wouldn't want this one." said another. Ryan wasn't sure who was speaking what. Everything was crazy and backwards. This isn't how he was supposed to die. Normal people didn't die like this.

_You haven't been normal for years_, his mind sneered at him cruelly.

"What we gonna do with him, Donnie?"

The one without a weapon grinned in a disturbing way that would have made the Cheshire cat cringe.

"What do you do with a rabid dog?" he said, as he reached into his coat and his hand moved. There was a ratcheting metal on metal sound. Ryan knew what that sound was and this was confirmed a second later as Donnie's hand came back out this time holding a short snub nosed revolver that gleamed in the moon light. The barrel's business end was a dark gaping lidless eye pointed right at Ryan's face; he could smell the gun oil.

He held out his right hand in defense, getting to his knees, his left arm wrapped around his bruised ribs, pleading with the last strength he had, spitting up the blood even as his body tried to heal and trying to breathe at the same time as the burning in his bones began to intensify.

"Please...don't do this...I'm not..."

...a freak. He almost said freak. He saw his reflection in a puddle.

_But I am now..._

"Look fellas, he's pleading for his life…Like a dog...begging!" The laughter was sickening, making his stomach churn. Donnie suddenly stopped laughing and moved the gun, lining it up with Ryan's skull.

It was in that moment that it happened.

The pain in his bones finally exploded into unbearable agony and focused itself along the lines of his body, shooting up and through muscle and tissue, tingling like electricity as it moved. Ryan saw the men's faces screw up in terror and Donnie's face light up with a strange blueish glow as purple energy began to crackle up and down Ryan's arm. His open palm reflexively flexed.

A bolt, a continuous beam of violet blue energy blasted out of his palms, rocketed across the space between himself and Donnie and caught Donnie straight in the chest, the energy screaming howling with raw untamed power as the man was lifted off of his feet and thrown backwards, coming down hard, his head smacking into the pavement, knocking him out cold with a bone rattling crunch. The other one next to him had been clipped, spun around and hit the ground unmoving. Ryan, unsure of what to do tried to shut off the beam, not knowing how or why this was happening and a pulse of energy, the same blue-purple force blasted out of his other hand, ripping down the wall next to him in an explosion of sparks and light. Smoke filled the air and bricks and debris rained down as a water main exploded, creating a midnight rain.

Finally, the beams stopped as Ryan closed his fists tight and finally opened his eyes and looked at his hands. They were glowing bright blue in some kind of translucent energy, steam rising from his fingertips as the glow finally faded, leaving his hands as they were before, the pain that had been in his bones for weeks now gone.

He looked the destruction he had just caused. The whole right side of the building he was laying next to was destroyed. It was as if a bomb had been set off in the alleyway. The pavement below him had cracked as well. His cloak was in smoking tatters.

He never noticed the squeal of tires of a vehicle at the exit of the alley as a black armored truck slammed to a halt.

He never saw the other man, who was not hit by the blast, crawl over on all fours and pick up the revolver from the ground, from Donnie's unmoving hand and aim it at him.

He looked up and then saw death staring him in the face as the man with the gun shaking in terror, put his finger around the trigger.

The man never said a word but his face was white as stone as his finger tightened.

A high pitched buzzing yowl cut the air.

A beam of scarlet light shot across the alley in an narrow controlled blast that slammed into the man's hand with the gun, blasting the weapon from his grip in a spew of sparks, sending it across the alley clattering against the ruins of the shop wall.

Crying out in shock and pain, the man shook his hand that had gone numb from the blast. Looking up, Ryan saw something that his fatigued brain didn't make sense of.

There was a man standing at the end of the alley. He had dark brown hair, and was dressed in some kind of black leather combat uniform with a X on it crossing the chest. His eyes were hidden behind a thin black visor that he wore that cupped around his ears. His right hand was raised up to the earpiece on the visor, finger ready on some kind of trigger stud recessed in over his ear as smoke steamed from the red lens of the visor that glowed ember red, running straight across from eye to eye.

Behind him stood a red headed woman with her hair up in a simple pony tail. She was dressed like the man was but her uniform was more shapely, more feminine. On the man's other side was a tall regal black woman with stunning blue eyes and long flowing white hair. Her uniform, also black leather, was adorned with a black and silver cape fastened at the neck and at her wrists. She was like an African queen from a lost time.

Who the hell were they? He didn't know.

The crook on the ground recovered enough from the shock and made a mad scramble towards the gun faster than even the man with the red visor could track. Without a word, the white haired woman rose into the air, her eyes glowing white, and raised a hand. A wind ripped through the alleyway, thunder roared above as black clouds swirled in the sky. A bolt of lightning shot from her fingertips, searing the air, burning the molecules, hitting the gun dead center seconds before the man's hands grasped it. It exploded into metal bits of shrapnel and when the lightning and the storm died away, there was nothing left but a melted heap of scrap bits. In shock but his adrenaline pumping, he charged toward the group.

The red head simply looked at him and raised her hand.

The man froze instantly in mid-air before he was flung to the side rolling into a crumpled heap. He got to his feet, looking at his assailants.

The man cowering in terror, finally had the good sense to get up and run as fast as his rubbery legs would carry him. The three obvious mutants let him pass and did not try to stop him.

As the three strangers moved forward, his vision finally gave way and the world went black in a haze of pain.

The last voice was the guy, the guy with the red visor.

"...we need to get him back...back the mansion."

_**New York City…**_

She had been sitting at the back of the bar, one of the seediest in this part of the city, watching all the people all night. People fascinated her. Disgusted her. Enraged her. They were like ants running around, always scrambling to be the best or get the upper hand. Her father, she thought darkly, imagined that humanity had its days numbered. Her father, she mused looking at the empty glass tumbler on the table before, had said a great deal of things. '

The tumbler winked in the dim lights from around the bar proper. The sound of a hundred voices assaulted her ears. The smells of unwashed arm pits and the sour cheesy scent of unwashed male parts made her gag. She swallowed the reflex. The bar bench with its tattered fake leather fabric and stuffing showing through was rough on her skin, poking her in the back. She looked up and saw a heavy set man staring at her, drinking her with his hungry eyes. He winked at her and she ignored him coldly. He had nothing to offer her.

The scratched round table before thumped as he got up and crossed the room, pushing people out of his way, his scruffy face lined with pock marks. He looked at her and she knew what he saw: A slim but powerful figure, a young woman, maybe in her late twenties, with graceful curves and ample assets. Her normally long jet black hair had been cut close with red highlights on the tips of her bangs. Her clothes were tight, red pants, black combat boots and a revealing crop top, also red. A pair of black cross earrings dangled from her ears. Her black eye shadow and dark red lip stick flashed as her bright blue eyes lifted to glare at him.

"Well, hello, darlin." The man said, pulling out the other chair, turning it round and almost falling into it, the impact shaking the tumbler on the table.

"Go away." She said, her voice laced with quiet menace.

"Now honey, don't be like that. Listen, what's a pretty thing like you doing in this part of town? Don't you know them muties are out? Imagine what one would do to a little thing like you. Come with me. I'll keep you safe." He purred, his slurred voice blasting her with a puff of whiskey.

Taking a deep breath, she spoke again, this time her voice had much more an edge.

"Go away."

The man's eyebrows came together and his mouth turned up into a snarl. He was drunk and taking no was not something he was going to do.

"I said," He snapped, his thick heavy hand coming down hard onto her smaller wrist, clamping down on it like a manacle. The tumbler leaped from the force, falling onto its side, spilling the ice and water across the table.

Her mind flashed.

Nurses and doctors….the needles…the straight jackets….

The rain as her father left her behind, her screams falling on deaf ears….

She looked up at the man and her blue eyes seemed to flash for an instant.

The tumbler began to vibrate…

Suddenly it split, a shard cracking off as the tumbler itself shattered into a thousand diamond pieces. The sound was loud and instantly the entire room and every person in it stopped moving and looked over at her.

She didn't care.

"I told you to let me go."

The shard from the tumbler levitated, hovering inches above the table.

"What the hell? You're one of them FREAKS!?" the man screamed and, still holding her wrist, drew back his free hand, fist balled, ready to clean up what he thought was an inhuman monster.

The shard flew up, the lights winking on its jagged edges. With a sickening squelch it lodged itself into the man's left eye, blinding him. He couldn't move or scream. Something was holding him, pressing on his chest. He couldn't move. Something was holding him down. All he could do was scream in his mind as the blood flowed down his face, running in streaks down his cheeks, bloody tears.

The shard keeping moving, digging deeper, twisting as it moved, vanishing into his skull, the sound of bone splitting cracking through the air with a wet squelch as the shard bored into his brain. His body began to convulse like it was being ran through with an electric current, his conscious thought stream suddenly fuzzy and erratic and finally, the shard exploded from the back of his skull, flying across the room, embedding itself into the dark wood of the wall.

The man's grip on her arm loosened and he dropped to the floor, dead.

The other patrons made for the door, screaming and fighting each other as the young woman stood up, and grabbed her coat, a long scarlet trench coat, draping it over her shoulders. It billowed like wings, red wings as it settled around her ankles.

She began to walk towards the rear exit as the people in the bar found themselves unable to leave, the door stuck beyond any reasonable limits. Over head the lights began to spark as the bulbs exploded, showers of sparks cascading down over the drunken men. The bar tender, covering his face from the falling glass, swung up a double barreled shotgun and took aim at the woman's back. She gestured once over her shoulder and the man swung the gun into his own face.

_BAM!_

The discharge of the gun was ungodly, the shot ripping through the roof as a sticky hot red rain now joined the shards of glass and sparks that were now spinning through the room. As she left the bar through the back door, she looked over her shoulder and looked at the gas lines running to the grill where the chef made bad burgers, the chef himself dead, caught in the jugular by flying glass. Almost as an afterthought, she waved her hand at the gas lines and departed, her scarlet coat flaring behind her as she vanished into the night.

In the bar, the sound of hissing gas filled the room as the men pounded on the doors and windows, unable to break free, coughing, choking on the fumes.

A single spark flared from a shattered light fixture.

A fireball erupted, flowering out with searing heat, obliterating everything inside the bar, cremating every single person inside. Glass, wood and metal flew out in a wave of death and staccato destruction. Cars and traffic outside careened out of control as the gas lines in the next two buildings went up in titanic explosion, bringing them to the ground in an earth shattering collapse. The smoke filled the air, turning the already dark knight into thick pitch, embers flying like lightning bugs.

Somewhere, sirens began to scream.

**X-MEN: Dark Force**

The warmth of the sun touched his skin. A gentle embrace from the energy as it warmed him, spreading up his bare forearm to his shoulders. He felt it on his face and squeezed his eyes shut. The sheets tangled up around him were warm from his body heat and he had no intention of leaving them. The nightmare had been so real. The pain from the blows…the destruction, the screams...all of it was just one dream that he had left behind. He smelled something.

Something was cooking.

A crisp meaty smell….spicy…juicy.

_Bacon_. His mom was cooking bacon. He felt his body begin to stir and fought it at first but gave in. The scent was too enticing. He cracked open his eyes gently and the bright gleam of the early morning sun blazed momentarily blinding him. Finally, his eyes focused. The wallpaper was the wrong color, he noticed. His house had beige wallpaper. Now there was wood paneling. Rich deep wood paneling. Expensive. Frowning, he sat up, looking around.

This wasn't a room in his house.

No, this room was definitely not one in his mom's house…his house…who's house…Ryan Douglas snapped fully awake.

This room had ceilings a good ten feet high, with rich dark paneled walls. The carpet was a plush white…the bedside tables and lamps…ornate and modern. The window next to the bed ran from the floor to the ceiling roof line. It was actually a door that opened out onto a stone balcony that overlooked a well manicured lawn…a lawn full of health robust trees and bushes, all neatly cared for. A circular drive was below the balcony he saw, sitting up, kicking the blankets and covers aside. A fountain rose up from the center of the drive, ornately carved like an angel with upward reaching arms to the heavens, its pool shaped and divided oddly into an X shape.

He looked down at the bed and saw it was a king size with thick rich blankets, deep navy in color with white sheets. He looked across the room and saw a pair of jeans, a black shirt and some shoes and socks laid out neatly on a dresser.

This was not his room. This was not his house.

Somewhere, he heard the laughter of children.

And voices. So many voices. He realized he could hear an entire conversation.

_"Did you get to see him yet?"_

_ "No! Did you?"_

_"Nope but someone said he was like Professor McCoy!"_

His heart began to beat faster and he heard his pulse race in his own veins. Looking around the room again, he saw everything was …different…in more ways than just the décor. Everything was sharper, every color richer. He could see the wood grain on the door that led to what smelled like a bathroom, the smell of clean and Lysol strong with a lemon undertone.

_How the hell can I smell that? How can I see that? _

Swallowing, he looked down at his own body for the first time since he woke up.

His skin was covered in jet black fur, short and silky, like a Doberman's. Every inch of him. His hands shaking, he lifted them to his face and saw they were human in shape and form except now they were also covered with the same fur with short blunt curving claws instead of fingernails, and they too were dull black. The palms of his hands were furless but were black none the less, a velvety tough black skin. He flexed his fingers. All five were normal otherwise. He looked down the tip of his nose and saw that he had a muzzle not a nose. A long graceful wolf-snout with a black tipped nose that was cool to the touch.

He did not have whiskers but in a panic, he opened his mouth, fear drowning him at this point, icy and cold, feeling his teeth. Yes. His jaws were just like a wolf's…long, filled with sharp teeth and four large incisors. Looking down as at his chest, he saw it had a different fur pattern. It was black as a base but in the space where he remembered his chest hair and belly hair as a human, his happy trail, was now shaded a silvery gray and stood out vibrantly against the black of his base fur coat. Standing up, Ryan moved to the bathroom, and found that he was naked. The bathroom did not have a window and it was darker than the room he had just left. Seeing his reflection in the glass of the mirror above the sink he jumped in fear. He was a walking wolf man, a real life version of Anubis from Egyptian myth. His eyes glowed in the dim light, a bright vivid green-yellow. Flipping on the light switch, the glow vanished and he looked deep into his striking amber-green eyes.

His body powerfully built and leanly muscled stared back at him. It wasn't real and it was real. The silver color pattern also was under his arms and below his navel . Everything below the belt seemed normal, except it was now black as well. It may have been slightly longer now than he remembered but all he could do was look in the mirror in shock. This was not him. It couldn't be.

The memories of the last few years….the beating last night….the pain…the destruction….his family…all of his suffering was very real. This was his reality. He was not human anymore. He hadn't been for years.

He was a mutant. A freak. A cast off of nature. He had nothing against mutants but had always tried to keep his head down out of the current political shit-storm of mutant rights…now he was in the middle….now he was the one who's rights were being decided upon by the courts.

Questions exploded in his mind, all coming at once. He felt the panic sink into his gut. He was feeling drunk. There was a gentle push of …something…a pleasant tingle in his arms and hands…not painful but there…constant….

A knock came at the door.

A woman's voice spoke and although it was outside the door, it wasn't muffled at all.

"Are you awake?"

Stammering, Ryan looked around the room and his eyes settled on the clothes.

"Um…yeah….one…one minute." His voice was the same, a gruff but pleasant baritone. Moving quickly, he crossed back into the room itself and picked up the clothes. The scent of the cotton hit him immediately. These were brand new. Lifting up the jeans and black short sleeve t-shirt, he found a pair of navy blue boxer briefs. Oddly, there was a specially made opening under the waist band of the back of them. He saw the same kind of opening on the jeans in almost the same spot.

Then he remembered.

Looking over his shoulder he saw the wolf like tail flexing.

The holes made sense now.

Growling under his breath, he pulled on the boxer briefs and the shirt, quickly pulled on the jeans and snapped them shut, zipping up the fly.

"Come in."

As he turned around to face the room, the door to the bedroom opened and a lithe stunningly beautiful woman walked in. Her hair, scarlet and reaching her waist fell around her shoulders accenting her green eyes and soft light skin. Dressed in a white doctor's lab coat, loose professional slacks and shoes and a peach blouse she looked like a scientist. Ryan tensed up. As she stepped into the room, a man in a wheelchair followed her. The man himself, dressed impeccably in a dark business suit, had an air of authority about him but also a kind demeanor in his blue eyes. He was bald and the light of the sun reflected on off of his scalp. His chair was silver and black, motorized, silent and the wheel hubs retained the same shape of the fountain outside.

An X.

A third man entered the room behind the man in the chair. Six feet even, with clean neat brown hair and a powerful build, dressed in a blue shirt with jeans and oddly, Ryan noticed, a pair of jet black framed sunglasses with ruby red lenses that completely blocked one from seeing his eyes.

"What's going on here? Why am I here? What is this place?" Ryan stammered, backing up a bit. Behind him there was only the bathroom door and then, nothing.

The woman smiled.

"Don't worry. We aren't here to hurt you and you are free to leave whenever you like. This is a safe place." She said. Her voice and expression was comforting and as she spoke, Ryan felt his fear begin to melt away.

The man in the chair spoke next. His voice was deep, cultured with a rich British accent.

"Please, have a seat and I'll explain. You're among friends."

Ryan backed away, facing the people as they entered the room fully, closing the door behind them.

Sighing, he sat down on the bed and let his hands hang between his legs, his shoulders slumping. He was tired. Just woke up but still exhausted. This was too much.

He happened to glanced over the night table and saw the digital clock. The hologram floated above it read 10:00 AM.

"My name is Professor Charles Xavier. This is my home and the home of my students. It's a school, a school for gifted youngsters who are gifted with the X gene…mutants as we are called. Each of us—"

"I know what a mutant is. I just wasn't expecting to be one." Ryan cut in roughly.

"I see." Xavier said, moving the joystick on the right hand side of his arm rest, the chair gliding silently over to sit next to Ryan.

"Then you know that you are a gifted young man who's abilities can be controlled. You are not a monster." He continued.

Ryan's dark silver eyebrows raised.

"Tell that to the man in the mirror." He said darkly.

"Your primary mutation is a physical one. That much is apparent and I understand if you feel as if you've lost your humanity. But you are still human, as are we all. Here at the institute you can learn to harness your abilities…" Xavier continued.

"So what's your power? A good sales speech?" Ryan snarked and he immediately felt a twinge of guilt.

_I am a telepath. I can read minds among other things._

Ryan jumped visibly. The voice…the man…his lips didn't move…his voice…Xavier…was in his head.

_Now that's just freaky, _Ryan thought and immediately regretted it.

_Its alright. I don't go spying in my students heads, I promise you but if you need me, all you have to do…_Xavier's gentle voice echoed carefully in Ryan's head as Xavier tapped his temple and smiled.

"Right. So…this is a school and everyone here is…like…like me?"

Xavier nodded. "Yes. All of us have our own unique gifts. This is Doctor Jean Grey, medical doctor but also gifted telekinetic and telepath. She's our physician and a teacher. She teaches biology, anatomy and for our psychic students, how to control and work with their psychic gifts." Xavier said, motioning to the red headed woman.

"This is Scott Summers, code named Cyclops. He is my team leader and the teacher of shop class and mechanics. He has the ability to project a beam of optic force from his eyes….highly dangerous. He could easily punch a hole with it through a bank vault or a mountain."

Scott nodded at him. "I'm also in charge of helping students who have the ability to project and control energy….spatial dynamics and such."

Ryan nodded. This was getting crazier by the minute.

"So why aren't you freaking out and running away like everyone else who saw me?"

Jean smiled and put her hands in the deep pockets of her lab coat.

"Trust me. We have several students, who like you, have a primarily physical mutation that is just as drastic. Don't worry. You really are safe here if you want to stay. We can help you if you want."

"This…school…its not like anything I've ever seen…I can hear them…smell them…sense them…there's something….I feel…safe. But I don't know." Ryan shrugged.

"I graduated a few years ago and I was still at home. I had my sights set on Columbia University…then this happened." Ryan gestured lamely at himself. "I ran away from my mom's place where I was staying. Been on the road alone for three…four years. I'm just tired of running and last night…I don't even know how to begin to process what happened last night."

The images of the brilliant blue-purple energy lancing, blasting out of his hands, obliterating the wall, hurting those men…

"I'm dangerous." He said at last.

"Trust me," Scott said. " I know the feeling. Let us help you learn to control it. Don' t be afraid of it."

"Fine. What do I have to lose? I mean, I can't lose much else. Where do we start?"

"How about breakfast for starters?" Jean said.

Ryan's stomach rumbled. At least part of him agreed.

The dining room was large and ornate but not ostentatious. There was seating for twelve people at the long table. Bay windows lined the wall looking out over lush fields and forests. Outside, children played on a basketball court, laughing. Some, the older ones, gathered in groups, talking and sharing the latest gossip. Ryan found his attention leaping from item to item, his sense under assault from the new smells and new hyper definition vision. Everything was fascinating and terrifying. He had no shoes on and the hard wood floors, polished to a mirror finish, were warm under his feet from the morning sun. Everything was rich and posh yet at the same time gave off the air of study, reflection and peace. This place was so different than anything he had known or felt in the years since running away from home. The professor rolled his chair to the head of the table and Scott and Jean took seats on the opposite sides. There were already plates set up, and food had been set out on platters: Fresh scrambled eggs, buttered toast, steaming bacon and sausages…apple butter and jam…maple syrup and pancakes.

He hadn't had a real meal in over a year.

He felt his stomach rumble.

A hearty male voice rang out from the other end of the dining room.

"Full many a glorious morning have I seen, kissing with golden face the meadows green, even so many, one early morn did shine with all triumphant splendor upon my brow!"

Ryan whipped his head up, his ears perking towards the sound. A somewhat shorter man walked in, dressed impeccably in a business suit, thickly built, solid as a tank, but covered in blue fur from head to toe with piercing blue eyes to match. His wavy dark blue hair was combed back from his face and flowed as he walked. He had round glasses on his face and pushed them up on his nose as he crossed the room. He could have easily been a linebacker but to Ryan he had the air of a very well educated teacher or librarian.

"Good morning, Hank. Always a pleasure." Xavier smiled as the man he called Hank crossed the room and gave Xavier a healthy pat on the back.

Scott and Jean smiled at the fur covered man as they chewed their pancakes.

"Morning Hank." Scott mumbled through a mouthful. Jean glared at him playfully.

"Rude."

"Never." Hank said, looking over at Ryan who sat there not really sure what to say or do. This was surreal.

"And who might this strapping young man be?" Hank asked, studying Ryan carefully, looking over the top of his glasses.

"This, Hank, is Ryan Douglas. He arrived last night after an unfortunate altercation. He's had a rough night." Xavier introduced him since Ryan was unable to speak.

Hank walked over to Ryan and Ryan caught the distinct smell of Old Spice, soap and something else…the tiniest scent of wild air and earth.

Hank extended a large fur covered blue hand.

"Professor Hank McCoy. Former head of Mutant Affairs to the President and now, full time teacher of English and Chemistry. Call me Beast if you wish. Everyone else does."

Ryan nodded and extended his own hand slowly, watching Hank's face as he did. Hank did not flinch and showed no reaction other than warm welcome.

Hank's grip was firm and professional.

"Good to meet you, son. I hope you stay. It's a hellevua place to learn."

Hank took a seat next to Ryan and helped himself.

"Thanks," Ryan said quietly.

A swinging door to the kitchen swung open and a stunningly beautiful tall woman with ebony chocolate skin walked out, her long hair was white as snow pulled back in a loose pony tail. Her eyes, bluer than the cleanest ocean were striking.

"I hope everything came out alright. Logan is still teaching me the finer points of breakfast without milk and cereal out of a box." She said grinning.

"Everything is great," Jean added, taking a drink of her juice. "Ryan, this is Orroro Munroe. Everyone usually calls her Storm."

"Good to meet you, Ryan. I'm sorry about what happened to you. I hope you got some rest." Storm said, taking her place next to Jean.

A moment later another man walked out of the kitchen. Ryan felt danger run through him and the fur on the back of his neck prickled. Compact and built like a cage fighter, the man had dark hair and mutton chop side burns, his hair swept back up with the smallest hint of horns in the way it lay. His face was covered in short stubble and his eyes were alert, cautious and highly intelligent. His thick powerful forearms stuck out of the short sleeves of a white t-shirt that was tucked into a pair of old faded and well worn biker jeans. His boots were heavy steel toed things and a large belt buckle glinted at his waist.

The man looked Ryan over once, sniffed as if smelling something and put on a lop sided half serious cocked smile.

"This the new pup?" he said gruffly, sitting down heavily next to Storm.

"Combat trainer, martial arts instructor and survival trainer. Names Logan. Call me Logan. In the field, its Wolverine. There. Saved you some breath, Charles." Logan said succinctly. "In case you were wondering." He speared a sausage with a fork.

Charles smiled. He had long gotten used to the gruff exterior Logan put on. It was a way of dealing with the world that had long been too hard on him and had honed the man into a living weapon.

"So he is. Logan, this is Ryan Douglas, hopefully the newest member of our…team." Xavier said cautiously.

Ryan looked up at Xavier.

"Team? You've mentioned a team a few times. What team?"

Hank swallowed and looked up at Ryan.

"Ryan, you of all people should know that mutants are not tolerated well among non-mutants for the most part. It has improved somewhat in the last few years but still there are those who hate and fear us and will go to any lengths to wipe us off the face of the earth. There are also mutants who feel the same way about humans. Humanity doesn't have the means to fight off a mutant threat when some mutants pack a cannon in each eyeball."

Hank looked up at Scott for a moment and then back to Ryan.

"Not every mutant uses their gifts for good reasons. Some are very cruel people just like normal men and women. There are fights and threats. The team we belong to was founded to help fight those threats…to protect even those who hate and fear us because one day, we will have peace. We all work towards harmony even if that seems unlikely." Hank finished.

"The team is only part of the school," Storm added. "Most of our students come here to learn to control their gifts either with encouragement from their parents or like you, as run aways whose gifts were so extreme that they had a hard time fitting into normal society. Here, they can get a quality education as well as training to use their gifts for the betterment of man."

"Afterwards," Scott spoke up. "Afterwards they graduated and rejoin the world as educated fine young men and women or, they stay on and become something more."

"More?" Ryan asked, trying to follow all the faces and names.

"The X-Men."Xavier said, his blue eyes growing distant for a moment and Ryan thought, sad. "That's what an old friend called us." In a moment the look vanished and Xavier was back to being polite and cultured as he always was.

"Please, eat. Make yourself at home. Whatever choice you make, you will always be welcome here."

Ryan nodded and made himself grab some bacon. Then some sausage, toast and eggs. His first bite was wonderful. It exploded in his mouth, warm and buttery, the crisp taste of bacon, the biting spice of sausage.

Jean watched him out of the corner of her eyes.

_He hasn't eaten properly in over a year…its been so long since he has been around people who don't care what he looks like…he's carrying a lot of emotional pain, Charles._

Charles voice was in her head, quiet and measured in response.

_Yes, I can feel it on him like a scar. I hope I can reach him and help him. He's right. Without training and guidance he is a danger. I don't want him lost forever. _

Jean responded her mind easily touching Ryan's without him even knowing.

_He's hard to read but there are so many walls up in his mind…emotional dams. Be patient with him. He reminds me of Logan. A loner. _

The silent conversation ended and breakfast went out as everyone caught up for the day, talking about lesson plans, events that were coming up in Washington D.C.

Once a blonde haired and bearded young man came into the kitchen with a shorter young woman with waist length brown hair with a white streak on her left side.

"Morning, professor." The young man said.

"Good morning, Bobby." Xavier replied.

"Pass me a glass of OJ?" Bobby asked and Jean nodded. Ryan watched in awe as the orange glass pitcher levitated off of the table and tipped itself slightly, pouring the golden liquid into an empty glass on the table. The pitcher set itself down and the glass lifted and flew by itself into Bobby's hand.

"Thanks, Jean." The glass frosted over instantly in Bobby's hands as his fingers gave off a wisp of condensation.

Grabbing a piece of toast, the young woman brushed aside the shock of white hair out of her face. "You did good, Storm. Just like mom used to make."

"Thank you, Rogue." Storm said, her cheeks flushing.

"You're welcome, runt." Logan said, the first hint of a smile on his face.

"Uh huh. You too, grouch." Rogue said, but her voice, with its deep southern twang, was soft and kind. There was a connection between Logan and Rogue, Ryan could see, but clearly the real fireworks were between Bobby and the girl. Ryan noticed something else. Bobby was dressed in a dark blue t-shirt and loose jeans and sneakers. Rogue however was dressed in a light green shirt and loose pants but she was also wearing a type of sheer nearly transparent body-stocking with thin black gloves on.

He wondered why as the couple headed outside.

Half a second later another young woman with brown hair came running through the dining room, glancing once at the table and keep going as she ran _straight through it._

"Morning guys. Sorry late for a date. Gotta go!" she said as she passed through the side wall of the house like a ghost.

"Ryan that was Kitty Pryde..also called Shadowcat." Xavier said, laughing to himself. "She had a date with her project she was presenting for her class and I'm afraid she's almost let it run over. She's our computer science teacher."

"Right…uh…she's…solid?" Ryan asked chewing as he watched Kitty run across the field to a station near the tree line through the plate glass of the windows.

"Oh yes. Her gift is quite special. She's able to pass through solid matter by passing her atomic particles through the spaces between the atoms of objects. We call it "phasing"…it's a form of quantum tunneling. She can do it at will. Rather remarkable. Harmless to the things she passes through but if she focuses the right way when she passes through electronics or people she can be havoc on the objects electrical system or the human nervous system rendering them unconscious for a short time." Hank said admiringly. "I taught her the last bit after she accidently fried one of my hard drives."

"Wow." Ryan said.

Ryan looked around the room and paused at each face.

"Beast…Cyclops…Storm…Rogue…Wolverine…Jean Grey…Does everyone have a code name?"

"Most of us who chose to stay on choose a code name for protection of our identities in the field when we have to go out on a mission. It lets us keep a bit of privacy." Scott said, setting his fork down.

Ryan looked at Jean. "So why don't you have a code name?"

Jean's face darkened slightly. " I do have one, but I rarely use it. It's got some rough memories attached to it but sometimes they call me Phoneix. I prefer Jean though."

"Oh. Who chooses them? The names?"

"You do. The students themselves. They develop their gifts and find a new identity, one they are comfortable with." Xavier added, setting down his coffee cup, the steam wafting up into the air, the scent rich and dark. He liked coffee, strong and black. No creamer. Ryan blinked away the information. He really could smell everything.

"After breakfast, Ryan, I'd like you to join myself and the rest of the team downstairs. I want to show you something and I have some information for you…I'd also like to run a few tests if that's alright." Xavier said. Noting the worried look on Ryan's face he quickly added "Nothing painful. I just need to gather some more information about your secondary mutation so I can help you learn to control it better. Its all passive, nothing invasive."

"Alright. Mind if I get some more bacon?" Ryan asked, a small grin appearing on his face. Jean looked at his sheepish face and smiled.

"Sure. Have as much as you want."

An hour later, Ryan and the professor were walking alone down a long corridor. They had taken a concealed elevator from the first floor of the mansion down to a sub basement, far below the surface of the earth and even below the mansions foundations. The others had gone ahead and for now, it was just the two of them. They had stepped off the elevator and into the corridor he now found himself in with Xavier rolling along side silently. This hallway and the others branching off of it were nothing like the posh mansion above; here, everything was cold surgical steel, polished and gleaming with the gleam of the florescent lights above and set into the walls. Rooms sealed with round X shaped doors were labeled in small writing: Laboratory, Medical Wing, Garage, Gear and Equipment Armory, Gym 1 and Gym 2, Archive….what was this place?

Ahead, two thick double doors bearing the now familiar X insignia lay ahead. Ryan studied the doors. They were dark metal, a hybrid of steel and some other metal, what he wasn't sure. Thicker than any bank vault he had ever seen, they were marked with a name above the door frame that said volumes: Danger Room.

Two lights, rectangular in shape, were also above the door. One was green and the other red. A control panel with an intercom was to the right side of the door. The light was green and glowing at the moment.

Xavier rolled up to the control panel and keyed in a sequence. The doors unlocked with a rumble and slid open, splitting into two halves as they receded into the wall like something off of Star Trek. As they entered the room, Ryan's jaw dropped open a bit, his feet carrying him across the threshold and into the room itself.

The room was gigantic. At least the size of half a football field, rounded with thirty foot high ceilings. Everything was made of an unfamiliar highly polished metal that looked like chrome. It was bright in the room, like a hospital. Directly over head, in the center was an observation pod, round, like the room, with large windows running around the entire circumference. Inside the pod was a bank of computer panels, all winking and flashing.

Behind them, the double doors hissed shut and the locks engaged.

"What is this place?" Ryan asked, his voice echoing.

"This," Xavier gestured, "is the Danger Room. It's the training area for students and my team members to train and focus their abilities to be able to use them in a combat situation as well practice. It can also be used for study and observation. We've had to rebuild it a few times and its gotten quite a few upgrades over the years. Its able to produce solid-light holograms, using lasers and force fields to create the illusion of real solid matter. It's also has self defense systems and a few other tricks."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Well, it can be if one disabled the safety systems but it isn't meant to be gentle or easy. Its mean to test you to your limits. The real world is not forgiving. But if you are wondering if you can be seriously harmed, the answer is no. Not usually but if you decide to stay, you'd better start off at the lower levels."

Xavier tapped a button on his chair arm and round disc-like platform descended from the observation pod. He rolled his chair up onto it and turned it to face Ryan.

"You are under no obligation to stay here and I want you to know that. You are free to choose your own path."

"I understand…you've been the first people to show me any kind of kindness in years…I owe it to you to at least see what this place is about." Ryan replied.

"Thank you. That means quite a lot. Please stand here." Xavier said and hit the button on his chair again. The disc hissed and rose back up into the observation pod, locking into place and sealing. Ryan watched it ascend and then turned his gaze to the silver walls. For a moment, it was silent. Then Xavier's voice came over a hidden intercom system, bouncing around the room silently.

"Before I call the others in, I'd like to run a few scans if you don't mind, to get an idea of what your abilities truly are."

Ryan's ears perked up again. He looked up at pod.

"Fine by me. I guess I can play guinea pig. That was a good breakfast, doc." He said wanly.

"If you will please move to the center of the room, I'll start the scans. Don't worry, its painless and totally passive."

Ryan moved to the center of the room, the metal cool underneath his feet.

"Like this?" he said, glancing up at the pod, his arms hanging by his side, as relaxed as he could force himself to be as a rising apprehension rumbled in his gut.

"Perfect. Now, just remain as still as you can…"

Inside the observation pod, a door hissed open behind Xavier as Jean walked in. She was no longer dressed in her doctor's coat and civilian clothes but rather a black leather-like uniform, with green accents. The pants and sleeves were long and were covered by black gloves reaching her elbow. A black belt cinched her waist with a square belt buckle that was emblazoned with a green X. Her red hair and green eyes stood out even more against the darkness of her combat uniform. Her black boots muted her footsteps.

"How's he doing?" she asked as she tapped a few controls on the console next to the one Xavier was working on.

"Surprisingly, I feel little fear from him only a slight nervousness. I think he will do fine." He replied.

"Standard scanning and sequencing?" She asked, flipping a switch as a bank of flat panel monitors flickered to life.

"If you please."

Jean tapped the controls expertly, blowing a strand of her red hair out of her face.

Suddenly, a hologram series projected onto the observation windows. The data from Cerebro's initial scan of Ryan was there, along with black spaces with flickering cursors waiting for information input.

"Activate scanning sequence Delta-7, Genesis program. Authorization Grey, four four seven five." Jean said aloud.

A gentle feminine voice replied from the computer console.

"Acknowledged. Beginning scans."

Down in the center of the room, Ryan flinched slightly as a round blue-green glass eye like probe floated down from a panel in the ceiling. It hovered in front of him and made a small beeping noise. A bright blue beam emitted from the center eye and moved, slowly scanning him from his ears, down to his faced, his entire body to his toes and back up. Ryan tried not to squirm.

Up in the observation pod, Xavier and Jean watched the data flow in as the hologram shifted as numbers and information appeared.

The female computer voice spoke up.

"Subject shows the following primary mutations: accelerated healing factor 10, carbon nano-re-enforced skeletal structure and teeth. Retractable claws on hands and feet. Enhanced senses, visual, auditory, olfactory and tactile, factor 10. Strength and agility enhanced, factor 9. Reflexes, factor 8."

A holographic representation of Ryan flickered to life in the center of the observation pod with lines leading from different parts of his body to the various data being gathered by the scanning probe. A cross section flashed up of his internal anatomy. The computer continued.

"Estimated maximum movement speed is forty-eight kilometers per hour…"

"That's close to thirty miles per hour…" Jean said in awe as she went over the data herself pouring in over the monitors.

"He's like Logan. He has a similar healing factor and naturally strengthened bones, teeth and claws. Astounding. But what I don't understand is why Cerebro alerted us to an Omega-level mutation. Everything here is purely physical." Jean said thoughtfully.

"Secondary mutation detected: energy projection, manipulation and control."

"And there it is," Xavier nodded at the screen. Jean's brow furrowed.

The computer was flashing an Omega-symbol alert.

"Power levels: Unknown. Type: Unknown. Scan complete. Analyzing data for training scenarios now." The computer continued.

While it worked, Jean looked at Xavier.

"When we went to pick him up, he was being beaten pretty bad. This explains why he healed so fast but it also explains what else we saw."

"What happened?" Xavier asked her, backing away from the console to look at her. Jean crossed her arms and looked down at Ryan.

"He was on the ground, begging, they were beating him…and then there was this …flash…and then there were beams shooting out of his hands…a bright bluish purple light…it practically demolished the buildings on either side of him and it really did a number of those men who were attacking him. Singed some of their clothes off and melted the brick, vulcanized it. They weren't hurt too badly so I called the paramedics from the encrypted line before we left."

"Energy projection…like Scott?"

"Very much but so different. Scott's beam doesn't produce heat unless it has extended contact on a surface or field for extended periods…its purely concussive."

The console beeped. Jean looked down at it.

"I don't understand these numbers...they are off the charts, I've never seen an energy projection potential graphing like this one."

Xavier looked at the numbers.

"I have an idea of who might be able to tell us more."

He reached out psychically.

_Hank, I need you._

A moment later, the door behind them hissed open and Hank walked in. Jean was never not taken aback by the change in him when he was in his uniform. Made of the same black leather as Jean's, his was shirtless with black pants and an open black leather jacket that lacked sleeves. It had yellow accent stripes on the shoulders and an X symbol on his right shoulder. His did not have boots but rather revealed his bare blue furred feet with his prehensile toes. With his glasses gone, he was no longer held the appearance of an educated college professor but was now exactly what he appeared to be: a deadly beast.

"I need you to take a look at these readings of the energy field Ryan is giving off. The computer is trying to decode his secondary mutation but its having difficulty pinning down what it is exactly."

Hank stepped forward and leaned over the displays, rubbing the fur on his chin like a beard. His blue eyes studied the readouts, his powerful mind working quickly.

"Oh my stars and garters…." He said, his voice low and in awe.

"What is it?" Jean asked leaning in.

Hank pointed at the screen. "Do you see the gravity readings around his body?"

There on the screen was a blue line indicating the gravity field around his body, curving and warping around the contours of his body.

"Now, do you see the gravity field in the room?"

They nodded.  
>"Okay, now look at the energy field he is giving off. Invisible but look at what its doing to the gravity, if only by a tiny percent more than normal."<p>

It took Jean a moment but Xavier saw it first.

"Its pushing gravity away from him…it is warping the gravimetric field…of the Earth itself." Xavier intuited.

"Exactly. Now, you've sat in on some of my quantum physics classes…what does that?"

Jean's eyes lit up. "That's only been theorized…its never been proven or even recorded…Can it really be?"

"Yes, Jean. That boy down there is projecting dark energy. Its what's responsible for pushing the universe apart after the big bang. In theory its what will cause one of the two ways the universe is believed to die from: expansion…the big freeze. If you want my guess, he can project dark energy and may even be able to manipulate dark matter itself."

"My God, Hank. If that's true…he could tear apart the planet itself."

"Entirely possible. Its both a terrifying thought and an astounding scientific discovery." Hank added, straightening up. "You'll need additional readings to confirm it but I'd say that's what you're looking at old friend."

"Thank you, Hank. Please tell the others to head down into the danger room. I want to see if what you say is true but I want him to feel a bit more comfortable first." Xavier said. "You too, Jean, if you don't mind."

"Sure."

Jean and Hank turned, and the door hissing shut behind them, leaving Xavier alone in the observation pod, a cold dread seeping into his stomach. If this boy went out of control he would very well be the end of civilization and there he stood, totally unaware of it, scared as if anyone could hurt him.

The scanning probe had vanished back up into the ceiling and a side door off to the left wall slid open and Ryan watched in uneasy anticipation as the people he met this morning at breakfast walked into the Danger Room. They weren't dressed the same. Now each of them was dressed in a black leather like uniform. Scott's uniform was black with red accents and a black single lens visor ran across his face, fastened over his ears with an activator stud on each side recessed into the ear cover. The lens gleamed ruby red in the bright light. His black gloves and combat boots made him out to be much more menacing and authoritative than he was at the table. He was clearly a leader, a commando even.

Storm was next. Her uniform while made of the same black leather was much more feminine, curvy with high heeled black boots and gloves with white-silver accents. Behind her, a black cape with a silver inside trailed like wings, attached at her neck and the wrists. Her long white snow hair was down now, very much all business. Kitty Pryde and Rogue came next. Kitty and Rogue both wore similar uniforms, again the black leather, combat boots and gloves. Kitty had faint pink accents and Rogue had yellow-green. Rogue's gloves were different; thinner more sheer. Bobby trailed behind them; his uniform consisted of a loose fitting gray and black outer jacket, long sleeves, gray gloves and the familiar black pants and boots. Jean and Hank followed; they too were dressed in black combat uniforms, Jean's accented with a darker green with the black and Hank's accented yellow, shirtless and an open jacket and black pants; he wore no shoes, Ryan noted.

A taller Caucasian man came out and stood behind Kitty. He was a good six feet plus, one of the few people Ryan had to look up at. His uniform was like the others, black leather material, pants, boots and shirt only his lacked sleeves at all. His hair was short, buzzcut brown and his eyes were intense yet also had a gentleness to them.

The last person to come into the room was Logan. He too was dressed in a black combat uniform, just like Scott's only his had yellow accents and an X shape design that crossed his chest in the black leather. His combat boots were scuffed and his gloves were strange. Ryan noted there were three slits in Logan's gloves, three on each hand , spaced between his knuckles.

They all stood before him, in a neat line.

From above, Xavier's voice came over the intercom.

"Ryan, this is my team. They have trained for years here at the institute and have dedicated themselves to stand between any mutant threat to humanity and to protect humankind, even those that hate and fear us. These, are the X-Men."

"Scott, step forward."

Scott stepped forward with military precision.

"Scott Summers, AKA Cyclops. He has the ability to project a beam of pure concussive force from his eyes. Unfortunately, Scott's parents were killed in a plane crash when he was a child. He and his brother survived by sharing a parachute but Scott was injured upon touchdown. The part of his brain that would later develop and allow him to control his mutant abilities was damaged. This means he cannot shut off the beam that projects from his eyes without closing his eyes. Without his ruby quartz glasses or his combat visor, he must close his eyes to avoid unleashing his beams, meaning he is effectively blinded without it."

A short wall moved out from the far side of the room. A holographic target blinked into life.

"Ryan if you would stand aside to the right please, Cyclops will demonstrate."

Ryan did as he was told, not knowing what to expect.

Cyclops stepped forward, squared his shoulders and raised his right hand to his right ear. With two fingers he depressed the recessed button on the ear cover.

Instantly the ruby visor lens opened and a blast of scarlet white light blasted out, a coherent blazing red beam screamed across the room, slamming full force into the target, denting the metal behind it in a splash of red energy. Scott released the button, and the visor snapped shut again, the beam shutting off instantly.

The scarlet beam…the red eyed man….Ryan remembered now. Cyclops had been one of the X-Men who had come to his rescue.

"Storm, if you please." Xavier asked as Scott stepped back in line.

Storm stepped forward and raised her arms. Her eyes turned a milky white, glowing. A wind began to blow in the room, slow at first and then stronger, pressing Ryan forward. In the air above Storm's head, a thick black thunder cloud formed, and lightning spat out of it as it ran up and down her arms. She began to levitate above the floor, her cape flapping in the wind, her hair wild. Arcing her back, she flung her arms forward, her face a mask of concentration as twin arcs of lightning tore from her finger tips, flying at the same target Cyclops had blasted, the air burning with ozone, thunder rumbling as a small hurricane formed in the Danger Room.

The lightning struck the target in flash of sparks, the metal hissing as it began to glow red, the electricity from the lightening conducting through it. The lightning and the wind died down as Storm settled back onto the floor and soon the mini hurricane was gone as if it had never been there at all.

"Storm as you probably guessed from her codename has the ability to manipulate, generate and control weather patterns and forms."

"Jesus…that was cool." Ryan said breathlessly, pushing his fur back out of his eyes.

"Kitty and Rogue if you please. Shadowcat as we explained to you earlier has the ability to phase through objects. Rogue's power is a bit more extreme. If you two could demonstrate…carefully." Xavier instructed, watching his charges from the observation pod.

Shadowcat stepped up and brushed a strand of her hair out of her face.

"I'm also death to hard drives and gear." She said, pulling off one of her gloves, exposing the skin on her hands. "But very good at getting into locked places." She said grinning. Back in the line, Hank smiled proudly at her and Shadowcat returned the grin. Rogue looked at him.

"My power is her power and any other mutant that I touch. I take them on for short time, as well as their memories and knowledge. It fades after a while and I can take more than one…but," Rouge said, slipping off one of her own sheer gloves, " It has drawbacks. I can never touch anyone bare skin to skin remember that if you don't want to end up in the medical ward with a splitting headache there handsome." She finished, her southern accent rich and flowing. "The bodysuit you see me wearing lets me touch people without killing them. Normal people just get knocked out but if I hold on to anyone too long….its curtains. And I mean it. No kidding."

"Ready?" Rogue asked Shadowcat, holding up her fingers. Nodding, Kitty touched her fingers to Rogue. For half a second there was the faintest flash and Kitty jerked away as if she were burned, the veins in her hand standing out and then going back down. "Its not a comfortable sensation." Kitty said, looking at Ryan shaking the feeling back into her hand. "Its like a part of you goes to sleep."

"Sorry." Rogue apologized sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it. Show him what you can do." Kitty encouraged Rogue, slipping back on her glove.

Xavier hit a series of switches up in the observation pod. A series of walls rose up out of the floor, five in all, in a rough semi-circle.

Taking a deep breath, Rogue dropped into a dead run right at the first wall in the series. Her legs pumping her white-streaked brown hair trailing out behind her, she ducked her head down as she hit and passed through the first wall, moving on through the second, third, fourth and fifth, passing through like a ghost until she circled back around, phasing down through the floor and then phasing back up behind Ryan as he whirled around to look at her.

"That was awesome."

"Sweetheart, you have no idea." Rogue said as she lifted off of the ground and touched back down gracefully in the line up.

Kitty raised an eyebrow. "Show off." She looked at Ryan. "That isn't from me. She started being able to do that last year."

She too went back in line.

Jean stepped forward.

"Jean's the telekinetic, right? Like Carrie, the movie?" Ryan asked out loud, looking up at the observation deck.

Jean smiled. "Not quite. I'm usually packing a bit more finesse. You might want to duck."

Ryan turned and saw four solid metal spheres blasting across the room, the air whistling with their speed. There was no way he could duck fast enough and he threw up his arms instinctively.

Jean raised her hand, palm open, fingers curved.

The air seemed to shift and the spheres suddenly froze in mid air, stopping.

Ryan opened his eyes and reached up and touched one of the spheres. It didn't budge. It was like it was against a concrete wall. Jean flicked her wrist and the spheres were flung back across the room, slamming into the far wall shattering into pieces like glass.

Jean smiled a bit bashfully and to stand next to Scott, wrapping an arm around his elbow.

"Beast, if you will be so kind." Xavier asked.

"The firey-eyed smokey maid of war…" Hank said, stepping forward.

A metal bar lowered from the ceiling. To Ryan, it looked like a jungle gym bar. Suddenly a flickering of light caught Ryan's eye and a man in riot gear materialized. Armed with a stun baton and a machine gun, the man did not move but looked totally real.

"It's a solid-light hologram with advanced AI programming." Xavier advised, sensing Ryan's unease.

"You mean you can hit it?" Ryan asked.

"Yes. Completely interactive."

"Hank, be my guest." Xavier instructed.

Instantly, the guard became active, swinging his shock baton forward, sparks flying from it. Hank dropped into an animalistic crouch, baring his teeth as the guard swung the baton in a vicious arc aimed right at Hank's head. Leaping, Beast jumped straight into the air over eight-feet, grabbed the bar with his feet. Letting his weight carry him forward, Beast grabbed the guard by the shoulders, lifted him into the air and completed his arc, letting go of the bar and throwing the guard bodily into the barrier that Rogue had phased through moments before.

The guard landed, the breath knocked out of him, slumped and faded away in a glitter of tiny lights. Beast landed on his feet, looking as if it were nothing at all what he just did and walked past Ryan giving him a pat on the back.

"All in the wrists, son."

Bobby stepped forward next without being called. He stepped in front of the barriers that Hank had threw the guard into and shook out his hands like a boxer getting ready to fight. Dropping into a defensive martial arts guard stance, Bobby stuck out his hands, whorls of ice and snow blasting from them in a cold blur. The energy slammed into the metal barrier, icing it over instantly, the air in the room dropping by several degrees. Ryan watched his breath turn to vapor. Bobby poured on the power, his arms, chest and entire body eventually turning into a clear transparent form of organic ice, gleaming like diamonds.

Bobby lowered his hands, steaming from the cold, the ice blasts ceasing, his body returning to normal, the ice form fading away as Bobby took on his normal appearance.

He looked at Ryan.

"That's why they call me Iceman. Stick around. You'll learn a lot."

As Bobby took his place next to Rogue, the taller young man with the shaved hair and brown eyes and sleeveless uniform stepped forward.

"My name is Peter. Peter Rasputin….but…" he said with a very slight Russian accent, flexing his considerable biceps, "You can call me Colossus." Instantly his skin transformed as what looked like blue-white shiny metal plates appeared and linked, covering his entire body, turning him into a walking metal man. Not an inch of skin was visible. Even his eyes and hair had turned into what looked like organic steel. He had also grown what looked like a foot in height.

Without a word, Colossus drew back his fist and slammed it into the barrier wall, shattering it like it was glass. Shifting back to his human form, the organic steel now back to his normal skin, Colossus—Peter—Ryan reminded himself took his place back in line with a formal nod. Everyone was now looking at Logan.

Logan looked up at the observation pod.

"Come on, Charles. Is this really necessary?" he asked gruffly.

"I'd like make Ryan as comfortable as possible by showing him he really is among friends and demonstrate that all of us at one point had abilities we couldn't control and have learned to do so through training and practice. Please, Logan. I would appreciate it." Xavier asked.

"Fine, Chuck."

Logan stepped forward and held up his balled fists.

_SNIKT!_

Three thick metal blades curving wickedly towards the tip, broad at the base shot out of the spaces between Logan's knuckles, three on each hand. Each one was just over a foot long with double edges. Ryan felt a shiver run through him.

"Pay attention, pup." Logan snarled and swung his fists and claws in an X motion, the metal blades slicing into the steel barriers, sparks flying. The barrier split as the claws sliced through them to the floor and fell apart into four pieces.

Logan sheathed his claws, and they snapped back up, sliding into his forearm like a cat's claws.

"Stay or go, its up to you, bub. But you've got to learn control somewhere otherwise you will be a danger to anyone and everyone around you. When someone you love dies because you can't control it, then you're gonna wish you had control. My advice? Stay and give these yahoos a chance. I did."

Logan walked back to his place and crossed his arms.

Xavier spoke up over the intercom.

"Ryan as you can see, we each have our gifts like you and like you, they once were seen as curses. Your gift doesn't have to be a curse but it will be if you let it. Will you stay and train with us? Will you stand with the X-Men? If you don't wish to stay, we will help find you a home and help you get on your feet but you will have a place here."

Ryan looked at the X-Men before him.

They were all so strong and sure of themselves, in control. Focused. Everything he wasn't. They had also been kind to him, welcomed him into their homes. He had no family left. No where else to go. He felt that tingling burning in his bones again. He knew that the fur and teeth weren't the only things that had changed. Something else was different. He felt a power sleeping quietly now inside him.

"When do we start?" He asked, looking up at the observation pod.

Ryan stood panting in the danger room. His arms and back ached. His legs burned. Logan had been assigned to train him in hand to hand combat and the man was unrelenting. Ryan's right hand ached. He thought he had broken his hand throwing a punch at Logan, connecting with the man's shoulder. Logan failed to tell him that the same unbreakable metal that coated the man's wicked claws also coated every bone in his body except his teeth. After the meeting in the Danger Room, Xavier had sat down with Ryan and told him about his primary mutation. Apparently he could heal from any wound and his own bones were practically unbreakable. He probably had broken his hand but it had healed so fast that all that was left was a dull ache. He had learned to flex his hand the right way to unsheathe his own razor sharp claws and to retract them.

Logan had been putting him through his paces with basic training most of the afternoon and finally Ryan needed a break. Logan stood nearby breathing hard on his own, a white towel wrapped around his neck.

"I'll give you one thing, kid. You're tougher than you look. I haven't broken a sweat in a training session in years. You might be able to pull this off. But keep an eye on your left side. You tend to leave it open." Logan growled.

"Yeah, your boot reminded me." Ryan sniffed.

A door slid open and Scott walked in. Scott was dressed back in civilian clothes, black t-shirt and jeans but he had on his combat visor instead of his glasses.

"I'll take it from here, Logan." Scott said gently, looking around the Danger Room. The floor and walls were covered in deep gouges from Logan's claws and Ryan was panting. Logan's training was rough but it was very effective. Still, Scott thought, his eyebrows raising a bit.

"Be my guest. I got a bike that needs tuning."

Logan turned and headed for the exit. "Keep practicing those blocks and opening moves. You doing pretty good, kid." He said as he left, the door sliding closed behind him.

"That was about as close to a compliment as I've ever heard him give. You must have impressed him. Not easy to do." Scott said, grinning.

Ryan grabbed his shirt from a bench and wiped his face, pulling it over his head.

"I hope so. I've got a blue belt in tai kwon do but never finished to black. I haven't practiced in a while."

"Well, for now I think we are going to give you a break from traditional combat training and focus on…non-traditional combat methods." Said Scott.

"First, I want to see if you can hit a stationary target."

Ryan thought back to the meeting with Xavier before starting training with Logan.  
>"Xavier said I could project dark energy but I've only done it once…in that alley. I didn't even control it. It just sort of happened. This stuff is new to me." Ryan said, turning to face a wall that had pushed out of the far side of the danger room. A holographic target flashed into view. Scott gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.<p>

"When my power manifested, I took off the entire roof of my high school. I stumbled around, blind for weeks before Professor X found me and took me in. He helped design my glasses and visor and trained me to focus it as much as I could."

"I don't know how to use it. I'm—"

"Its cool. We're going to learn together." Scott reassured him.

Ryan sighed. "Okay. I'll give it a shot."

"First, remember in the alley. How it did it happen?"

Ryan thought about it, remembering the pain of the blows, the hate and the fear.

"I remember them hitting me over and over…I remember being afraid…and then…well…before that…I had this feeling…deep in my bones. It tingled and burned and then when…it…happened…it went away…like a release."

Scott nodded. "Sounds like me. Before my first…accident…I started having massive headaches. Nothing could touch em. Then the roof of my school blew off one day."

Ryan raised his hand, palm up and pointed it at the far wall and waited.

And waited.

Nothing was happening.

He waved his hand.

Still nothing.

"I feel stupid. Like Yoda is going to pop up and say use the Force, Luke."

Scott laughed. "At least you have good taste in movies. Focus. Feel that energy in your bones. Follow it. Push it out. Do or do not. There is no try."

Ryan half glared at Scott.

"Right."

Closing his eyes, Ryan tried to feel the energy. Deep down, in the darkness, he felt it. Warm and coursing like a river, it followed his bones, his nervous system, tingled in the back of his mind. Push it? Push it how?

"This isn't working," he said, frustrated, letting his arm drop.

An alarm belted out like a score buzzer and Ryan whirled towards the sound.

Three of the same metal cannon ball spheres, silver and reflective, the same kind that Jean had taken out, were now hovering on the far side of the room.

Ryan felt his fur prickle. A cold computer voice spoke.

"Target acquired."

Ryan looked at Scott who had crossed his arms.

The spheres launched themselves forward, moving so fast they had become a blur. Ryan could still see them, his enhanced vision picking them out. A panic rose in his throat. If those things hit him it wouldn't kill him probably…maybe…he didn't know…he did know it was going to hurt.

"Scott…" he stammered as the distance closed quickly

Scott did nothing, his eyes unreadable behind his ruby visor.

The spheres got closer, the distance now almost closed, seconds away from smashing his face.

"SCOTT!"

Ryan did the only thing he knew to do and hoped he would be lucky. He turned sideways and threw up his right arm, balling his hand into a fist.

A warm sensation spread up his shoulder

Blue energy manifested, swirling around his arm, surging down to his hand where it gathered and blasted out in violent beam of blue-purple plasma energy. The continuous energy beam lanced out with an electric scream and smacked the middle sphere, obliterating it in a small explosion of parts, sparks and metal pieces flying, vaporized circuits filling the air.

The beam shut off as suddenly as it began, leaving his fist surrounded in a blue-purple plasma until it too faded away. The other spheres stopped as soon as the middle was destroyed, pausing in mid air, awaiting a command.

Ryan lowered his left forearm which was shielding his face.

He was okay. The sphere was gone, vaporized. He had done it.

He felt a rush of adrenaline.

"Holy shit…did I?"

"Yes you did. You pack a punch." Scott said proudly.

"I just …I thought that thing was going to hit me and BAM…it happened." Ryan said breathlessly.

"That's how it goes. At first its instinct and then you can do it at will if you focus. Think you can take out those other two?"

Ryan swallowed. "I'll do my damndest."

"Show me what you got."

Ryan turned back to the spheres, his arms by his side. Flexing his arms, he balled up his fists.

_Focus…focus on the fear…._

His fists began to glow blue-purple as the blue energy began to stream down his arms, collecting on his clenched hands.

Ryan snapped his arms up, pushing with his mind, and the energy beams blasted out again, first out of his right hand, taking out the left probe, then from his left, taking out the right probe. The glowing plasma faded as his hand steamed and returned to normal.

He looked at Scott and grinned.

"I think I got this."

"Good."

Scott hit a button on the panel behind them and four more probes appeared, all gleaming. This time, each one had a shock prod on it. They began to spark with a wicked gleam.

"Show me."

Ryan balled up his fists and the glow returned, this time his eyes changed. Instead of glowing the amber-green they usually did, they turned, this time to a vivid bright blue energy that took over his entire eye, each one turning into a burning electric blue orb. On each probe, he saw the face of the men who beat him, the man who called himself his father but was never there, all the pain he had endured the last four years.

Settling into a stance he braced himself.

"Bring it on."

The probes flew forward.

Night had fallen at last on the Xavier Institute. Most of the students were now asleep, the grounds silent, lit by garden lights and lightning bugs. The forest and the grass danced in a cool breeze. The mansion's windows were mostly dark, except the bay windows of one of the downstairs living areas. Most of the X-Men had gathered there, talking, relaxing. To Ryan, it seemed so normal that it almost freaked him out. Ryan himself was dressed now in a looser white t-shirt, a pair of jeans and no shoes or socks. He found them to be uncomfortable on his feet. He sat on a balcony on the top floor. Behind him, the double glass doors were open, the library behind him dark and comfortable, the long dark green curtains billowing once in a while in the breeze. He had settled himself on the railing of the balcony, his feet dangling over the edge, the stone rough under his butt even through the jeans. His tail hung behind him, twitched unconsciously once in a while as his mind raced. Above him, the blue-black sky glittered with star-diamonds, each one visible more than he had ever thought possible.

Today was so strange.

The night before he had been nothing, no one, a freak on the streets packing cannons in his hands and God knew what else. His bones had burned and ached. He hadn't had a home, a safe place…a family. Then in one night, these people show up out of the blue, and now, he had an opportunity. He was welcome here, treated just like anyone else. Everyone was happy. His mind resisted it, looking for some trick, some catch and he kept finding none. A group of people just like him were sitting in a living room downstairs, quietly enjoying a bit of late night television and coffee, talking about their students and their progress, world affairs and just …life. It seemed so surreal. It was a jarring image to his psyche after being on the run for so long. He desperately wanted to be a part of it but was also desperately afraid. He didn't want to get too attached and …

There was a sound.

It was a soft sound. Shoes on carpet. His ears pricked up and his spine straightened. It was coming from the wall to wall thick carpet of the rug in the library behind him. Instinctively he sniffed, smelling the air.

It was a warm gentle scent. The smell of county sunshine, gentle rolling breezes, a gentle waft of perfume and the smell of laundry detergent: Gain, it smelled like.

Then she appeared at his side, the country girl with the long brown hair and the white skunk stripe in it. He glanced at her from the side. She was back in civilian clothes too, a pink t-shirt, loose fitting pajama pants, socks and of course, that sheer almost invisible body stocking that covered every inch of skin from her down. She stood by him for a few moments, the silence of the night broken only by crickets and the distant sounds of Salem Center, cars and traffic. Over head, a plane flew over, its red and green lights blinking softly before it vanished over the horizon.

"Hey there," she said softly, brushing her skunk stripe out of her eyes. "Beautiful night huh?" Her Mississippi accent was lilting, tickling his ears.

Ryan nodded and kept his eyes on the stars.

"Yeah, I guess. Rogue, is it?" He replied, his gruff voice quiet. She nodded.

"You can call me Marie if you want…everyone calls me Rogue but Marie is fine too." She replied, leaning up against the railing.

"Marie. Gotcha. Lotta names to keep up with," Ryan said, looking down at her.

Rogue looked up and met his gaze. "Tell me about it. When I first came here, I thought it was a joke."

"How long have you been here?" he asked, turning to straddle the railing and face her. Rogue sighed and smiled.

"2004."

Ryan did the mental math. "That's almost 19 years."

"I was fifteen. I ran away from home that year." Rogue replied, boosting herself up onto the railing with him.

"What happened?"

Rogue sighed, the memory was obviously painful for her.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to." He quickly added.

"Nah, its alright." She reassured him. "I just haven't thought about that in a long time." She looked back up at him. "I was dating this really cute football player from my high school in Meridian, Mississippi. We were in my room and I was talking to him about an adventure I wanted to go on."

"Adventure?" Ryan asked, grinning a little.

"Yeah," Rogue laughed sheepishly. "You know how kids can be. I wanted to travel the country and see all the major landmarks. I had it all planned out before college. I had this map in my room I had put up with little pins and post cards, the whole shebang."

"Sounded like it would have been fun."

She nodded, maybe a little sad. " Would have been."

"Things started heating up between me and my boyfriend. I kissed him and for a moment everything was fine. It was the first time I had ever kissed a boy. It was amazing, sparks flew…..then sparks really flew. He started to shake and his whole body just locked up…his veins on his face was sticking out and he started have a seizure."

"I could hear him in my head, see what he and his friends talked about, his supper from the night before, how he felt about me…It was like he was inside my head, voices and thoughts. I screamed and my mom and dad came upstairs…My mom had been playing the piano…It went from a beautiful afternoon to being in hell inside of two seconds. Later that night, I snuck out and hit the road. I didn't want to be touched by anybody or hurt anybody else."

"I know that feeling." Ryan said quietly as she continued.

Rogue went on. "Made it all the way to Canada before I ran into Logan. Snuck into the back of his trailer…he had just left from the bar we were in…got into a fight with a bunch of assholes. When I saw his claws for the first time I knew he was like me. Scared the hell out of me. Long story short we ended up here and life's been a whole lot better."

She looked over at him.

"How about you tall dark and furry? What's your story?"

Ryan shrugged. "Its…its complicated."  
>She laughed. "Honey, that's all you are going to find here. Spill it, sugar."<p>

"Was born in small towns back woods bumfucked Egypt. Little tiny place called Johnson City, Tennessee. Moved to New York when I was twelve."

She grinned. "So, you are a country boy after all. I thought I heard something in those dulcet tones."

"Yeah, country at heart. My mom worked all the time. She had a job at a little diner, shitty place and the boss was a jerk. My dad? He was never home. Always out wasting what money we had. Drinking, women. I can't tell you how many times he beat the hell out of her while I watched. She would always take it though. Never let him keep her down. At least for a few years that I can remember. Towards the end, she started to let him win."

"I'm sorry, hun. Did she divorce him?"

"No. She just stopped caring. Started smoking and doing pills. I pushed myself as hard as I could so I wouldn't end up like either of them. I graduated high school and even when I was in school, I knew something was different. I was always at the doctor for the pain in my bones. I refused medication because I didn't want to be like my mom…or my dad. Addicts. Now I know why my bones were hurting."

Rogue put a hand on his knee. "You aren't alone anymore, sugar. None of us are. Professor X—I mean Charles—has been bringing people like us together for years and he's helped us all. He's a good man. You can trust him."

Ryan nodded. "I want that so bad. To be able to trust people, to not have to be on edge. To..to belong somewhere. This place…its not like anything I've ever seen."

"Let your walls down. As long as they are up, you'll always be alone."

"Maybe." He replied softly, tilting his head back and looking at the sky again.

"Whatcha looking at?" she asked quietly as the breeze moved her hair, tickling his fur.

"The stars. Before…before I changed, I could see them and just see little dots…little points of light….Now…everything is different."

"How?"

"The sky…is filled with light…stars, nebula…its like a rainbow of light and shadow…"

Rogue smiled and looked up herself. "Wish I could see that."

"You could always gimme a little tap. Can't hurt." He said, holding out his hand. Rogue looked down as his large hand with gentle fingers, dark furred and trusting.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. Just do like you did earlier with Kitty."

Rogue shook her head. "I really don't think it's a good idea, sweetie. I don't know anything about your powers or how to control them. I don't want…"

Ryan felt the familiar past slapping him back to reality.

"You don't want to be a danger."

Rogue took his hand in hers, the sheer fabric of her body suit covering her soft warm skin.

"Honey, I'm walking breathing danger. How about I trust you? I'll believe what you say if you believe in me….what I said about this place? You are safe. We want you here. You aren't alone anymore. Never again."

Ryan looked down at her small hand in his large paws.

It felt silly but it felt right. For a moment all he heard was two human hearts beating in the night, the breeze, the crickets.

"Okay. You got a deal." He smiled a bit, not much but a bit.

She looked into his eyes. They were blazing electric green-amber in the dark.

"You have really pretty eyes, by the way."

Ryan felt his face flush and wondered if she could see it in the dark.

"Thanks." He said sheepishly, blinking.

Rogue shoved off of the railing and back onto the balcony.

"Come on downstairs. Its movie night. Popcorn and everything. Logan picked something. He never does that. Probably some war movie or something." She said invitingly.

A flash of light sparked in the distance.

Ryan whirled his head around towards it.

It was brilliant, an orange and red fireball. Seconds later the boom reached his ears, loud, powerful. Flame reached for the night sky and smoked billowed, lit from below as car alarms began to go off and sirens to scream.

"Oh my God…" Rogue breathed, the flame reflecting in her brown eyes.

"What the hell was that?" he said in shock. He could almost feel the vibration from here.

Before she could reply, Xavier was there in both of their heads.

_Come to Cerebro, please. Everyone_.

He looked at Rogue and leaped back across the balcony, following her inside.

As they made their way down stairs, Ryan and Rogue talked quickly.

"What's Cerebro?" he asked as they turned a corner from the elevator, the floor and walls turning from the rich wood into the shining polished steel and florescent lights.

"You'd be better off asking Kitty that but the basics are pretty simple; It's a machine that amplifies and concentrates the power of telepaths, Xavier, to help him reach out and find mutants as their powers manifest. It can track them, study them and form a data file for their abilities. It helps him know how to best train them or help them control their abilities if possible. Its also part of the mansions computer system."

"Is that what that probe was down in the danger room?" Ryan asked, hearing voices up ahead: Scott and Jean. They were discussing in an energetic conversation, and the tone was not a warm and welcoming one.

"Yeah. Its been upgraded quite a bit. Here." She replied, turning a corner and there at the end of the hall, Ryan saw a circular bank-vault like door with the familiar X insignia on it. It opened onto what looked like a catwalk. As they neared and finally entered the room, he saw that his observation wasn't entirely off. The room was a giant egg shaped room, wide at the bottom and narrowing at the top. It was constructed of silver-metallic square panels, in a grid, covering every wall. The bridge-like catwalk was made of thick polished metal, with small warm circular lights lining the left and right sides. The catwalk had no railing and stopped about half way into the room, hanging over the middle of the space in the room. At the end of the catwalk was a simi-circular computer console, lined with touch panels, controls and a helmet connected to the console by metal cables. There, in front of the desk in his silver wheel chair, was Xavier.

At the moment, he was facing the others, Scott, Jean, Logan, Storm and Kitty. Beast and Colossus weren't there. Xavier looked up and saw Rogue and Ryan enter.

"Ah, good. Everyone is here." Xavier, as if sensing Ryan's question looked in his direction and spoke to him. "Beast and Colossus are away. I needed them to go upstate and check on…someone. For now, all of you are the only team I have."

Turning his chair, Xavier started to flip switches and tap commands into the console before him.

"First, I want you all to see this."

Tapping his fingers onto the touch screen, Xavier dimmed the lights. A hologram burst into life, floating in the space above them, spanning wide in full color, flickering.

A city street lined with emergency vehicles, police, fire and rescue and FBI trucks. A wall of flame reached for the sky, turning the entire intersection into an inferno, bathing everything in red flickering light. The streets were shattered, cracked and waffled with spider web splinters. Cars lay overturned, burning. People lay bloody as paramedics and firefighters fought the blaze to get to them. Buildings and store front lay in ruin, glass shimmering as thick smoke filled the air.

"…An explosion rocked downtown North Salem Center just minutes ago. Sources on the ground have not confirmed the cause of the explosion yet it appears, according to one inside source, to have been a gas main line. The fire has not yet been contained but connecting lines have been shut off and Salem Fire Department has assured residents that there is no danger to them or their homes…."

"What the hell happened?" Scott asked, the hologram reflecting in the ruby lenses of his glasses.

"A mutant set off the explosion," Xavier said, working the controls. "The alarm went off when I was in my study. I came down here and checked the logs and found that this explosion wasn't the first one. There was another the night before. Also, a gas main explosion, this time in New York City itself. A small bar and grill. Thirty-two people dead and fourteen more injured. There was a log in Cerebro's detection matrix but I had missed it."

The hologram of the news cast vanished and was replaced with a series of read outs and graphs. One of the screens showed a sine wave graph, colored red.

"This is the mutant energy signature Cerebro detected during the first explosion."

"This," Xavier said as the second screen showed a sine wave, this one also in red, "is the mutant signature Cerebro detected mere moments ago. "

The screens moved and combined, the signatures overlaying, turning green with a beep.

"As you can see, they are the same and it's a mutant we've seen before."

The screens wiped away and a new file appeared, a file with a picture of an attractive young woman with very intense eyes, dark hair and cross earrings. She wore a black shirt with a red trench coat and wore gothic style makeup. Data began to stream by so fast that not even Ryan could keep up with it.

"Wanda Maximoff," Xavier said. "Also known as Scarlet Witch. A very power mutant with the ability to control probability and cast energy that can manipulate reality to her will...hex bolts she calls them."

Scott scrowled and leaned over the console next to Xavier, scanning the read outs.

"How's that possible? She was locked up, there's no way she could have gotten out."

Suddenly all eyes turned to Ryan as he spoke up.

"What is going on?"

Storm explained.

"Wanda is extremely mentally unstable. Her emotions are out of control. Her power is off the scale. She's went on a rampage two years ago and her brother helped us capture her and Charles was able to help the state lock her up safely, humanely, using psychic blocking technology that Jean developed with Xavier. If she's gotten out," Storm finished, looking at her team mates, "Then there's only one person she's going to be out for."

"Pietro." Logan said with an air of finality.

Xavier nodded. "Yes. We have to find him before she does and get her back into containment. I dislike having to do this to her but she is too unstable. She remains a threat to everyone as long as she is free. I've tried to help her but she resists me. ,I need you to find Pietro before she does."

"This thing finds mutants, right? Use it to find him and her." Ryan said.

Xavier shook his head, turning his chair to face them all.

"I can't. Something or someone is shielding them. His last known location is about a hundred miles from here. He was living in a home in the mountains, one I helped him build to keep him safe from Wanda should she ever get out. Scott, you and others take the Blackbird. I'll have Cerebro upload the coordinates to the navigation computer. Hurry. If Wanda gets him, she will kill him. She has a knack for finding things she wants…you don't have much time."

"On our way." Scott turned and the others filed out of the room behind him, their demeanor going from concerned to all business.

Ryan was the last one left in the room with Xavier. As she left Rogue nodded to him.

"Ryan, you do not have to go with them if you choose not to."

Ryan shook his head. "No, I'm definitely going. Beats staying here and I owe you for helping me."

"Very well. Follow Scott. He'll get you a uniform. I know you haven' had much training but remember: you are in control. Follow Scott's lead."

"I'll try. Thank you, Professor. I'll try."

Turning to catch up, Ryan trotted after the others, finding them down the hall and off a right hand hallway. They were all in a room lined with space-age lockers with glass doors, drawers and equipment racks. The room seemed to split off into two rooms, one for men and one for women. Ryan entered just as Scott came out of the room on the left. He was wearing the same black leather uniform he was earlier, his ruby lensed glasses switched out for a thinner more stream-lined version of the single lens combat visor he wore earlier. It was black with silver accents, held to his head with a strap.

He zipped up the front of his uniform and pulled on his gloves as he saw Ryan.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his visor gleaming red.

"I want to go."

"Are you sure?" Scott asked, fastening his belt.

"Yeah. I want to help."

Logan walked in, his uniform already on as he adjusted his gloves with the slits between his knuckles. "You gonna tell him what you told me on the first mission I went on?" he said gruffly, looking at Scott.

Scott gave Logan a half serious look.

"He's not being an asshole and he didn't go after my girl."

Logan shrugged. "Fair enough. Welcome aboard, kid. Watch your left side, like I told you." Logan slapped him on the shoulder and headed out of the room.

"Follow me. I'll find you a uniform."

Scott led Ryan into the men's locker room and there Bobby was in civilian clothes.

"Going with us?" Ryan asked.

Bobby shook his head. "No. Staying to watch the school in case she decided to make her way here instead."

Scott was opening and going through lockers. He was searching for a uniform but wasn't finding one.

Bobby turned into a locker with a glass door next to him.

"Here. Try one of my old ones." He handed Ryan a folded uniform. Ryan shook it out and saw it was a leather one, like Logan's and Scott's with the X design across the chest only instead of the red or yellow accents, it had dark blue. There was the pants, the shirt-top, gloves and an undershirt and shorts. The undershirt and shorts were made of a soft material, thin, like compression shorts.

"The uniforms," Scott said as Ryan stripped of his shirt, " are a leather-Kevlar bi-weave, bullet resistant, flame and heat retardant and thermally reactive. Keeps you cool when it's hot and warm when it's cold. Communicators are build into neck collars, here, in the X." Scott said, pointing at the slightly raised collar with the blue X's on either side.

Ryan yanked off his jeans and pulled on the undershirt and shorts. They stretched and hugged his body snuggly, like under armor. Quickly, he pulled on the trousers and shirt, buckled and closed them up. He left the shoes and gloves off. Ever since the change he didn't like anything covering his feet or hands. The uniform fit surprisingly well, snug yet loose in the right areas. It didn't ride up and it was surprisingly comfortable. He stood up straight and saw his reflection in the mirror.

"Wow. Doesn't look as bad as I thought."

Scott raised an eyebrow. "Logan prefers yellow spandex."

Ryan looked at Bobby. "He's kidding right?"

Bobby laughed. " Ask Logan. I'm not getting into that."

"Let's roll. Keep an eye out." Scott said, directing his last comment to Bobby.

"Its cool." Bobby said, shifting into his ice form, the lights bouncing off of him.

Leaving the room, Scott and Ryan came out into the center of the armory, finding Storm and Jean, full uniformed as well as Kitty and Rogue. Rogue's uniform now had black trenchcoat made of the same leather, her stocking gone, her uniform like the others and her gloves shorter and easier to remove.

"Looking good." Kitty said, pulling her gloves up. Storm fastened her cape to her wrists.

"Have you chosen a name?" she asked Ryan, her white hair and chocolate skin lovely in the lights.

"Not yet." He replied. Scott checked his visor one more time.

"Try to remember, in the field, code names only." He reminded Ryan.

Thinking, Ryan took a moment.

"How about…Darkwolf? You know, dark energy and…well..you know.." he said sheepishly indicating himself.

"Sounds good to me. Logan went to prep the Blackbird. Let's move out." Scott-Cyclops, Ryan reminded himself- ordered and everyone moved, heading down the hall and to a set of double doors that were already open. Inside was a large garage like area, the size of basketball court, maybe a little bigger. In the garage were tools, fuel containers, different land vehicles and there, in the center was something Ryan had never seen anything like in his life.

It was an aircraft of some kind with forward swept wings, a long body, jet black matte paint, tinted windows and it spanned almost the length of the room. A ramp with entry lights led up into it. In the cockpit, Ryan could see Logan flipping switches and moving about doing pre-flight.

"What is that?" he said breathlessly.

"SR-77, supersonic jet. Custom made from the wheels up, based on the old SR-71 spy plane. Maximum velocity Mach 2.3…about 1,770 miles per hour at sea level, tops out at Mach 4.2 at 120,000 feet. Cloaking shield, advanced sensor pay load, on-board Cerebro-based operating system, she's a beauty." Storm said admiringly the planes sleek lines. "We call her the _Blackbird_."

Ryan did some mental measuring using objects in the room as a reference….the jet was at least eighty-eight feet long with a sixty-two foot wing span and was at least a good twenty feet high.

"How did you afford this? Does the government know?" Ryan asked as they boarded up the ramp, coming into the central section of the jet. The jet's interior was just as advanced as the outer hull. There were eight different flight seats, all with eight-point harnesses. The few windows that lined the hull were polarized. Specialized senor banks and computer consoles lined the walls. A medical triage unit was in the back, everything strapped down and locked tight. At the front of the jet was the cockpit. It was up a raised flight of stairs with four seats, again all with eight point harnesses. The cockpit was an advanced glass cockpit, all touch screens and read outs, holographic interfaces and switches. Ryan noted there were controls for defenses, including concussion missiles.

"The Professor is well connected. CIA contacts plus we have a few mutants that have a gift for technology. The government is aware of us and leaves us alone for the most part. Saving the president will do that for you, though they'd prefer it if we minded our own business." Scott said, settling into the co-pilot's chair, strapping himself in.

Rogue and Shadowcat took up their seats opposite of each other, each manning a sensor console. Jean took a seat behind Scott, strapping in and Logan, next to her sat down to make room for Storm who took the pilots controls. Ryan noticed he didn't strap in.

"I cleared a flight path with the FAA. Shouldn't have any problems from any more fighter jets." Wolverine barked.

"Thank you." Storm said, fastening her straps and looking over her shoulder at Ryan.

"You might want to take a seat. For now, sit and watch. If you want, when this is finished, I can show you how to fly her." She said, hitting the engine switches. Ryan did as he was told, grabbing a seat next to Rogue.

Somewhere a klaxon alarm sounded and there was the sound of hydraulics as the roof of the hangar bay slid back. The plane's engines started with a sharp whine that revved up into a solid but quiet powerful thrum. Ryan could feel the power vibrating the deck plates. There was a small jolt as the ramp closed and sealed behind them as the plane lifted off of the ground, hovering, coming up out of the basketball court of the mansion. Ryan looked out of the window to see the mansion fade as they lifted higher, the landing gear retracting and sealing. There was a powerful thrust as the main engines kicked on, pushing him back into his seat as the afterburners flared blue and the Blackbird took off blasting into the night as Ryan started to wonder if he made the right choice.


End file.
